A Little Fall of Strange
by RainWillMakeTheFlowersGrow
Summary: COSETTE is stalked by a strange man in the park. ENJOLRAS enjoys writing poetry. ÉPONINE leads the revolution. MARIUS doesn't sing On My Own (no, really!) FAUCHELEVENT pretends his name is Jean Valjean, while JAVERT is cut out of the story entirely.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, yes, I realize I have ruined Enjolras forever. I have turned him into Marius…only worse. **

**(shocked silence at the possibility of such a thing)**

**I love Enjolras too, and it wasn't my fault he turned out this way. You think I can control what I write? Ha. You, my friend, have never written.**

**Farewell, and, please, don't be too angry with me.**

_Chapter One_

_In which Enjolras yearns for love_

_I dreamed a dream in time gone by..._

_The trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers..._

_In my life, I'm no longer alone now the love in my life is so near..._

_WHO AM I? 24601!_

Random song lyrics ran through Cosette's head as she walked down the Luxembourg. She should write them down sometime.

Except the last one. That was just weird.

Cosette nervously shot a glance at that dude sitting on the bench. He was always there. Staring at her. It was really weird. One time her dad happened to drop a handkerchief and when she looked back, he was staring at it. And _sniffing_ it. Like, creepy much? Cosette SO did not want a stalker.

She decided to tell her dad about it, and he said, "Oh, no! Cosette, my child, are you all right? Poor, poor, girl! We shall never come to the Luxembourg again! Poor girl! Are you all right? Come, let us away with as much haste as possible!"

Maybe he overreacted a little bit, but Cosette was SO glad to be rid of that dude. It left her time to focus on her own slightly unhealthy obsession...Enjolras! Sigh. How she loved him.

She had first seen him in the Café Musain. Her father was taking care of the bill when she noticed the stalker come in. She had ducked into a back room to escape him, and there he was. Enjolras. He was incredibly handsome, of course, but he also spoke passionately of a grand world he saw in a vision. Cosette longed to share that world with him...even if she didn't really understand what he was talking about. She was about to blink prettily at him and ask him to tell her more, when she glimpsed the boy from the Luxembourg. He was about to walk through the door to the back room...

Cosette squeaked and crawled underneath a table. No one seemed to notice her, which she thought was really weird. She heard him greet the blond boy as 'Enjolras'.

Enjolras, she thought dreamily. Cosette Enjolras. She frowned. She didn't really like the name Cosette. The only uglier name she could think of was...Ursule. Now THAT was an ugly name.

Enjolras liked to write poetry. And occasionally put it to music. He had recently written one called "Red and Black" that he hoped to try out on Les Amis de la ABC sometime soon.

Enjolras loved France and the revolution. It was what he thought about almost every moment of the day. But, because this is a sappy romance, he often felt like he was missing something, some important piece of himself with chestnut curls and blue eyes.

The others laughed at him and said he was incapable of falling in love. Even Marius never seemed to talk to Enjolras about his mystery girl, as if he wouldn't understand. But underneath the obsessive revolutionist was a big ol' softie who just needed some love.

One day, he thought he glimpsed it-this missing piece of his life. But he shook his head. He was imagining it, he told himself. No woman except the waitress ever came in the back room of the Café Musain.

Several times he thought he saw her, but she always disappeared before he got a good look. So all he could do was dream...

And wait.

Marius was unloved. He decided to express his hurt by weeping and thinking sorrowfully of all who had wronged him (again, because this is a sappy romance). Marius had loved Cosette ever since she turned beautiful (which really said something about the depth of his passion), and he thought she adored him, too! But, alas and alack, it seemed not.

He had encountered her without her father in the streets one day, approached her, and said, "Oh my dearest love, at last we may speak to each other!

She said, "Umm...who are you again?"

What! She did not recognize him? Admittedly, they had watched each other from afar. "It is I, dear mademoiselle. From the Luxembourg!"

She peered at his face more closely. "Oh! It's you! That stalker dude! Why were you always looking at me in the park?"

His heart was breaking. He tried to come up with an excuse. "Sometimes it looked like there was a bee on your hair, and I wanted to make sure it flew away. Because nice people shouldn't be bothered by bees."

"Oh, if that's all," she said. "In that case, could you do me a favor?"

"Anything, for you, mademoiselle."

"So, like, that Enjolras guy," she said. "You know him, right? He is soooooo hot."

"Umm..." Well, this was awkward.

"Do this for me..." She looked at Marius. "What was your name again?"

"Le Baron Marius Pontmercy," he said, hoping she would be impressed with his title. She wasn't.

"Do this for me, Monsieur Le Baron Marius Pontmercy, find out where he lives."

Marius decided acting really selfish would win her heart. "What will you give me?"

"Uhhh...let's see..." She dug around in her purse. "I've got, like, two francs. That good enough?"

"Yes," he said. He already knew where Enjolras lived, so this should be fairly easy. He added, "He's got you all excited now, but God knows what you see in him."

"You really want to know?" she asked brightly. "Look, I made a list!" She pulled what looked like a very long piece of paper out of her purse. "One: Golden hair like buttercups swaying in the breeze. Two: Voice which swells with passion like a pie swells with delicious apples. Three-"

"That's enough," Marius said, fighting the urge to puke. Apples? Buttercups? He wondered how Enjolras would feel being described thus. He turned to go, then asked, "What's your name?"

She smiled beautifully. "Cosette."

Not Ursule after all. He sighed. It seemed he was getting everything wrong lately.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, I realize I'm supposed to put a disclaimer here, since that's what everyone else does. People, this is a FANFICTION website. Sigh. Anyway, I solemnly swear that I am not the ghost of Victor Hugo.**

Chapter Two

In which the Amis are not quite sure whether or not they are dreaming

Enjolras was lying on his couch thinking about that flash of brown hair, those big blue eyes he kept seeing. Was it real, or only a dream? And was it possible to fall in love with someone who he didn't even know the name of? He thought of Marius, and assumed yes.

He turned, a bit reluctantly, to thinking about the revolution. When would they build the barricades?

He heard a tap on his window. Rising, he pulled open the curtains and saw-could it be-a girl with long, chestnut brown hair. He hurried away.

When he returned a moment later, the girl was turning away sadly. "No! Don't go!" Enjolras called softly, in a voice that swelled with passion like a pie swells with delicious apples. He held up a notebook. "I just felt compelled to write a sappy love poem when I saw you there, standing so beautifully by the window!"

She turned back to him, glowing. "Will you tell me how it goes?"

Enjolras dipped his quill in ink and said, scribbling furiously, "Let's see...hmm...A heart full of love...a heart full of song..."

Marius left them to it and went to stroll along in the streets of Paris. (He didn't sing 'On My Own', though, because the author figured any readers she might have were getting tired of her using what was basically the same joke. Over. And. Over.)

He sighed. Dear Cosette! He had led her to Enjolras, hoping she would fall for him. But she hadn't. She hadn't even given him the stupid two francs. The next day, Cosette and Enjolras met at an agreed rendezvous point and strolled along the street, hand in hand. Cosette knew that her father rarely went out during the day, or she would have been more conscientious. Although it didn't seem like there was any particular reason to keep it from him.

"Oh, Enjy, how I love you," said Cosette.

"Oh, Ettie, how I adore you," said Enjolras.

They gazed into each others' eyes.

"Come, Ettie," said Enjolras. "I'm going to introduce you to all my friends in the secret club I'm in!"

"Okay, Enjy," said Cosette, breathless.

Still gazing into her eyes, Enjy led her to the Café Musain, causing quite a few overturned fruit stands. (Dear reader: it is quite important that you never gaze into someone's eyes while walking. Or driving. Some people even find it hard to breathe.)

When they entered the back room, everyone turned.

Courfeyrac said, "Hey, look, it's that girl who's always hiding under the table that I never really thought about before!"

"Who's this, Enjolras?" Grantaire asked, taking a swig from his bottle. "Your mistress?"

Everyone laughed. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" they said. "As if! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"Yes," said Enjolras, _still _gazing.

Grantaire spewed wine halfway across the room. "WHAT?"

"Although really, she's much, much, more," said Enjolras. "We've already agreed to be married, haven't we, Ettie?"

"If my father agrees," she said, smiling broadly.

Les Amis de la ABC were in shock. They showed this in different ways. Lesgles threw up. Bossuet kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Combeferre was coughing uncontrollably, while Joly kept saying, "But...but...but..." Courfeyrac appeared to be stifling a laugh. Marius ran out of the room, trying not to look like he was sobbing. Because he wasn't. Really.

"You always talk about love, my friends, but I didn't know what you meant." At last Enjolras looked away from Cosette, though keeping a firm grip on her hands. "Now, I finally understand."

"He's joking, right?" Courfeyrac asked Feuilly. "Please tell me he's joking."

"This is Enjolras we're talking about," Feuilly whispered. "He doesn't joke."

"What, you think he's acting like himself right now?" Courfeyrac asked.

"Anyway, Enjolras," said Combeferre, still coughing, and attempting to change the subject. "I've got the plans for that revolutionary pamphlet drawn up. You want to take a look at it?"

"Not now, Combeferre," said Enjolras. "Who cares about that silly revolution anyway? When there is love in the world, who cares if thousands of people go hungry in the streets?" He walked off with Cosette. "Expect wedding invitations soon!" he called over his shoulder.

Courfeyrac stared after him. "That did not just happen."

"I sure hope not!" said Bahorel. "Who will we find to lead the revolution now?"

Éponine walked along the streets of Paris. Beggars waited at every corner, little children and old men that held out their grimy palms for a sou or two. Éponine wished she could help them, wished she could make a difference, wished...

A man came up to her. "Hello! Are you interested in leading a revolution?"

"Sure!" she replied brightly.

The man looked relieved. "That's good, we've been asking random people all day and I think the police are starting to get suspicious. Come on back to the café, we can talk about our secret, treasonous plans!"

Soon, Éponine was standing in front of L'Amis de la ABC, making a passionate speech. "There is no question of postponing this task until tomorrow! Revolutionists should always be hurried; progress has no time to lose! Let us mistrust the unexpected. Let us not be caught unprepared!"

"She's great," Courfeyrac muttered to Combeferre. "Where'd you find her?"

"Oh, she was just hanging about, looking like she wished she could make a difference," Combeferre replied.

Éponine abruptly switched to singing. (Forgive me, dear reader.) "With all the anger in the land, how long before the judgment day? Before we cut the fat ones down to size..."

"Before the barricades arise..." yodeled Grantaire.

Éponine glared at him. "I," she said in a dangerously calm voice, "am the only one who gets to sing. Do you understand, Monsieur Grantaire?"

"Whatever you say, Artemis," he slurred.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, I had a lot of trouble making this chapter funny. I just can't make it work. So, stick with me, people.**

Chapter Three

In which M. Fauchelevent does something that might possibly be stupid

Cosette said, "Enjy, I think we should go tell my father about you. We might as well get it over with, don't you think? We want to get married as soon as possible." She blinked up at him from beneath her lashes.

Enjolras was at a loss for words. When he finally recovered his voice, he said, "Of course, my love. Anything you say."

She giggled and pulled him along by the hand. "This way," she said.

When they reached the Fauchelevent house, Cosette stopped. "I'll try and get Papa ready for you," she said. "You come along in a minute."

Enjolras gazed at her. "How can I be apart from you, Ettie, however short the time?"

Cosette laughed. "Just remember, if all goes well, we will be together for the rest of our lives." She blew him a kiss as she entered the house.

"Cosette!" her father said with some relief as she walked in the door. "You have been gone so long! It is not safe for young girls to be out without a chaperone, you know!"

"It's all right, Papa!" Cosette smiled. "I was only going to the market, you know, and I met a young gentleman who I have some acquaintance with. He walked with me innocently around so that I was not attacked, because he is a chivalrous young man. That's why we walked together. No other reason at all, really."

M. Fauchelevent suddenly had a guarded look on his face. "Oh?"

"Yes, indeed!" said Cosette. "He wishes to meet you, you know; he mentioned he might call on you today."

"Did he?" murmured her father. "I wonder why." As if he did not already know! This gentleman surely wanted to court his darling Cosette, to take her away as his wife...poor child! She had no idea of this man's intentions.

There came a rap at the door. "Surely that is not him already?" asked Cosette, sounding innocently surprised. "He must want to meet you very badly indeed, Papa!"

"Indeed he must," he muttered. "Go up to your room, child, and work on your needlework."

"Of course, Papa," said Cosette, smiling like an angel. She walked primly out of the room. She did not listen at the door, knowing her darling Enjy would tell her everything.

No sooner had she gone then Toussaint led a young man into the room. He was certainly handsome, and looked honest enough. But you could never tell about some people...

"Monsieur Michel Enjolras," Toussaint announced.

The man bowed. "A pleasure to meet you, M. Fauchelevent."

"And you as well, M. Enjolras."

They sat in awkward silence for a moment. The younger man broke it by saying, "I will not mince words with you, Monsieur. I wish permission to court your daughter."

"Of course you do," M. Fauchelevent muttered. "And why are you worthy to pursue her hand?"

"Because, sir," Enjolras said simply. "I love her."

The old man stared at Enjolras for a long moment. He seemed to mean it. "Do you have a job?"

"This very month I will leave law school and become a lawyer."

"Do you believe Cosette wishes you to court her?"

A slight flush appeared in Enjolras's cheeks. "I believe so, Monsieur."

Ah! So that is it! thought M. Fauchelevent. They have planned this out ahead of time.

He sat there for a long moment in silence. Then he sighed. "Then I suppose I can say nothing more. You have my permission."

"Many thanks, Monsieur." Enjolras rose. "I will take no more of your time. If I may call again tomorrow?"

"Of course," Cosette's father said. "Farewell, M. Enjolras."

"Farewell." Enjolras turned away, raising his fist in the air and mouthing, YES!

As soon as he was gone, M. Fauchelevent groaned and hit his head against his palm. "ARGH!" He had just practically given his daughter's future away to a man he knew nothing about. Perhaps he had no money in the world!

Cosette came rushing down the stairs to the parlor, having heard the door close. "Papa? What did Enjy...what did Monsieur want?"

"You need not worry, Cosette," he said wryly. "I have given him permission to court you."

"Really?" Cosette blinked in surprise. "That's what he wanted? I never would have guessed." She ran to him and kissed his cheek. "We're madly in love, you know," she added.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Still don't own Les Mis. Also don't own Enjolras's first name, Michel, which I got off another fanfic and which was the only one that seemed to work.**

Chapter Four

In which, much to Éponine's dismay, a wedding is attended, and Marius dresses up like a girl

Many weeks passed. Enjolras and Cosette visited in the parlor by day, taking care not to say anything embarrassing in front of her father, who sat in a corner, and he came to talk with her again at her window at night, where they could talk freely of their great, great, love, and also call each other by a large and sickening variety of pet names.

Meanwhile, Éponine was preparing Les Amis for battle. She was quite surprised when she learned that, although they were planning an attack, none of them were very good at shooting a gun. They learned soon enough, even Grantaire, who was appearing at the Café sober more and more often these days. Éponine had banned alcohol from the back room of the Café soon after the first five times he drunkenly asked her to marry him. He relinquished it surprisingly easily.

She had also begun stockpiling as much ammunition and powder as possible. "After all," she reasoned, "What if we were doing a fine job of holding the barricade and simply had nothing left to shoot?" A thought seemed to strike her as she said this, and soon after she started gathering food. "It would also not help the cause if we starved to death," she said.

One day, when Éponine entered the Café Musain, the landlady handed her a stack of envelopes. "Mademoiselle Thenardier," she said, curtsying.

Éponine frowned. "Mademoiselle Éponine, I've told you. I do not wish to be known by the name of Thenardier."

"Of course, mademoiselle," the woman said.

Éponine continued, "I mean, there's a T and an H at the beginning, but you only pronounce the T. It's just weird, you know? Soooooo confusing. When France is a republic, everything won't be so...French. Everyone will be able to choose their own last name!"

"Right," said the landlady, rolling her eyes. "You get right on that."

Now, that got on Éponine's nerves. "Do not mock the republic!" she cried. "Patria-"

"Ooh, I've heard you talk about him!" the landlady interrupted. "He's your boyfriend, right?"

"ARGH!" said Éponine, hitting her forehead with her palm, just as M. Fauchelevent had done. "Why does everybody think that? Just because I love Patria-"

"Is he handsome?" the woman asked eagerly.

Éponine sighed. "I give up," she said, and walked into the back room of the café. She glanced at the stack of envelopes. There was one for each member of Les Amis de la ABC. She ripped open the one with her name on it. It was written on pale pink paper and said in elegant script:

_We invite you to join us_

_In celebrating the marriage of Euphrasie Fauchelevent, daughter of Ultime Fauchelevent to_

_Michel Enjolras_

_on the 20 May_

_at the Church of Saint Marie_

Éponine had heard Les Amis talk about this Enjolras fellow. Apparently he had been the head of the revolution before he met some girl and wimped out. She set the paper down in disgust, then quickly picked it back up again to check the date. Sure enough, it was the day they were going to build the barricade. Éponine smiled in relief. At least she had an excuse for not going.

Unfortunately, Les Amis had other plans.

"Enjolras is getting married?" asked Courfeyrac. "Well, we must go!"

Marius rushed out of the room. (He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.)

"But," Éponine said patiently, "it's the day we've scheduled the revolution."

"Well, we'll just have to reschedule it, then!" said Feuilly. "We can't miss Enjolras's wedding!"

All the Amis nodded. "Yeah!" said Grantaire. "We've been friends with Enjolras since...a long time ago!" He took a drink from his bottle-just like he did every day. And-just like she did every day-Éponine took the bottle from him and threw it out the window, where it joined a steadily growing pile of broken glass.

"You...but...IT'S JUST A WEDDING!" she said exasperatedly, rejoining the discussion.

"Weddings are extremely important events," said Jehan.

"ARGH!" said Éponine, again, and walked out the door.

"I'll RSVP yes, then?" asked Courfeyrac, staring after her.

Éponine and Les Amis de la ABC did indeed end up scheduling the revolution for a few days later then planned and going to Enjolras's wedding. (No one is exactly sure how they convinced her, though it is suspected that it involved a knife and an extremely stinky variety of blue cheese)

It was revoltingly lovey-dovey. The bride and groom stared into each others' eyes, blind to the world around them. Enjolras even had to be jolted out of his reverie and reminded to say, "I will!" Of course, when he did say it he said it with love, in a tone filled with passion like a pie fills with delicious apples.

Éponine had to excuse herself when Enjolras began making his speech. It involved, among other things, some of the worst pet names ever cooked up, and a smile that stretched at least three yards.

At last, the disgusting event was over and they could get back to planning a revolution...

...of course, Enjolras's wedding had inspired Joly, who immediately went home and proposed to Musichetta, and Courfeyrac, who proposed to his own mistress, and...anyway, Les Amis de la ABC rapidly turned into Les Amis de Wedding Planners, postponing the revolution yet again.

_Finally_, everyone in Les Amis who wanted to get married had, and Éponine had hit her head many more times. At last, they walked into the street to fight a revolution armed with a few chairs and an antique piano.

Marius snuck into the barricade, too, disguised as a girl.

"Why?" Éponine asked him. (Nobody had fallen for his disguise, it was rather pathetic.) "What reason could you possibly have for putting on a dress and a fancy hat and curling your hair before a fight?"

"I don't know, I was just feeling really bad about how Cosette doesn't love me, so the obvious thing to do seemed to be dressing up as a woman."

Éponine had more important things to worry about than the possible insanity of one of her fighters. She shook her head and walked away to oversee the building of the barricade.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Oh, this was fun. If you can think of any other sickening pet names, let me know and I might add them.**

Chapter Five

Which the reader, if in possession of a weak stomach, might wish to skip the beginning of

Cosette and Enjolras were only getting worse about being sickeningly lovey-dovey around each other. Every morning, Cosette would come down for breakfast and she and Enjolras would have a conversation that went something like this:

"Good morning, my pookybear, my darling marshmallow, my honey bunny."

"Good morning, my pumpkin, my baby, my dearest. Would you care for an omelet, my precious sugar puff?"

"Oh, Enjy-wenjy! You always know what I want. I love omelets." She giggled. "But guess what I love more, my sweet angel?"

"I know what _I_ love more, my cuteness," he said.

"What, my little penguin?"

"You, my precious sugar puff."

"You used that one already," M. Fauchelevent noted. "Somebody pass the bacon, please?"

They didn't hear him. They were giggling and rubbing noses.

It got on her father's nerves so much to be in the same house as them that he made up this whole long story about how he was a convict who had stolen a loaf of bread and spent twenty years in the galleys, blah blah blah. He couldn't believe Enjolras actually fell for it. Then again, he wasn't sure the boy was actually listening. He kept glancing towards the parlor where Cosette was. "Convict? Mmm. Pity. Leaving, you say? Well, if you think it's for the best...I really must get back to my kitten now, it's been nearly two minutes since she's seen me and I'm afraid she might be getting a bit anxious..."

"Phew!" said the old man as he left the house, wiping his brow. "Well, that was disgusting. Thank goodness I've escaped!"

Back at the barricades, Marius was finding it hard to shoot while wearing a dress and elbow-length gloves.

"Just take them OFF, you moron!" Éponine screamed at him. Her patience was running low. "Take the stupid gloves OFF!"

Marius looked hurt. "There's no need to be _rude _about it," he said, sniffling. "These gloves were given to me by my dear old granny. Besides, I can't reveal my true identity until I've been shot and am minutes away from dying in my love's arms."

"Marius, everyone knows it's you. Trust me. That disguise really doesn't work on you. Besides, Cosette's not coming. Why are you even trying to shoot? We haven't been attacked yet."

Just then, Joly ran up to her, saluting. "Commander Thenardier, ma'am, sir!"

"Joly, _what_ did I tell you?" asked Éponine testily. "I'm rebelling against that name."

"Commander Éponine! They're marching on us!"

"Speak of the devil," Éponine muttered, "and the devil shall attack your barricade." Sure enough, she could hear the _tramp, tramp, tramp_ of thousands of feet marching in unison. "Friends of the Debased!" she called. "The National Guard is coming! Are any afraid of death?"

"NO!" they responded.

"Welllllllllllllllllllllllll," Marius said hesitantly.

"Then let us stand strong! Let us not give in!" Everybody cheered at the inspiring words, and applauded their fearless leader.

Soon, the National Guardsmen were assembled in front of the barricade. Éponine called out, "Knock knock!"

"Who's there?" the leader asked.

"FRENCH REVOLUTION!" shouted Éponine.

"FIRE!" the man said.

_Boom! Pow! Crash! "AUGHHHH!" Click! Bang!_

"Well, that was a fast battle," said Éponine. "Looks like everyone is dead except you and me, Grantaire. You want to go get a cup of coffee or something?"

"Or something," Grantaire said. "Wine?"

"No."

"Beer?"

"No."

"Liquor?"

"No."

"Umm—"

Éponine cut him short. "Think about what you're about to say, Grantaire. Does it involve any percentage of alcohol whatsoever?"

"Well, yes," admitted Grantaire.

"Then, no." She paused. "Do you realize that conversation just took longer than the battle?"


	6. Epilogue

**A/N: Here we are, at the end already! Please note: I, the person with the name that takes a really long time to type, am actually two people! WHOOO! Anyway, if you hated this, you probably just hate the me half and not the other part. So, don't disregard everything with the really long name!**

Epilogue

In which something happens that probably ought to have happened at the beginning of the story

M. Fauchelevent was thinking about moving to England. Or maybe Germany. Somewhere where he could be as far away from the words, "precious sugar puff" as possible. He was loading the last of his bags onto the fiacre when a chubby old man came up to him.

"Hello, sir," the other man said brightly. "I am a kindly bishop, and could not help hearing that you lied to your son-in-law in order to get away from his lovey-doveyness. Never fear, for though others may shun you for this, I will take you in and be kind to you, because, as I said before, I am a kindly bishop! Now, would you care to reform?"

"Fat chance!" said M. Fauchelevent, getting into the fiacre.

"But I'm a KINDLY BISHOP!" the bishop screamed.

~_Finis~_


End file.
